September in rain

We pick our fire and hang it
And wait for a layer to open
Below a green patina of light.

There is September in a rain
And doubt lying in a  corner.
There is an unresolved smile.

There is rain water gushing
By a broken wall in a house,
A lake in the garden of dog.

September things hang fire
As they do in other months
And other nights and rains.

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